


Ease Your Feet in the Sea

by cavaleira



Series: My Wandering Days Are Over [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Asgard, Intersex Loki, Intrigue, Jötunn Loki, M/M, Politics, Worldbuilding, and lots and lots of feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 08:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11077557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavaleira/pseuds/cavaleira
Summary: After the events of "Waiting for the Moon to Rise,"  Loki is thrust into a new life as part of the Asgardian royal court. Though life in the palace offers many pleasures, it also comes with a new set of challenges to face. As Thor and Loki figure out how they fit into each other's lives, sinister forces put their relationship to the test and threaten to tear Asgard apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thorctopus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorctopus/gifts).



> Oh my god it's finally happening! Thank you all for being so patient and a huge thank you to thorctopus for bidding on me for the Fandom Trumps Hate auction. I really hope you enjoy it :)
> 
> Here we go!

Loki awoke cocooned in warmth. A deep sense of satisfaction settled into his bones as he floated in the liminal space between dreaming and waking, content to linger there while awareness slowly washed over him. He opened one eye and squinted against the yellow glare of early morning sunlight. When his eyes finally focused, he realized that he wasn't staring at the sun at all; it was the glossy shine of Thor's golden hair, which was in a state of complete disarray after the previous night's activities.

Though Loki had been living in the palace for nearly six weeks now, he'd spent most of his time "settling into his rooms,” which was little more than a thinly veiled euphemism for having ridiculous amounts of sex with Thor. Thor had sworn to Loki they would break in his apartments properly and so far he was living up to his promise, while somehow also managing to keep up with his kingly duties. He really was remarkable that way.

Loki sat up and stretched as he gazed down at Thor's sleeping face. He smirked, allowing himself a brief moment of smugness over how thoroughly he’d tired Thor out. It was much easier to deal with that than the web of complicated feelings brought on by this newfound happiness. Every day he was torn between the desire to sink his claws in and grip it tightly and the fear that by doing so he would crush it.

Aside from meeting Frigga, Sif, Thor's warrior friends, and a few servants, so far Loki’s interactions with Asgardians had been limited. He and Thor weren't exactly quiet and people seemed to be giving them a wide berth for the moment. Thor had told him not to worry, as people viewed these first months as a honeymoon of sorts. From what Loki gathered, everyone was terribly curious about him, a fact that he found most amusing. He _did_ so enjoy leaving people in suspense and cultivating an air of mystery. They would all get to see him soon enough; the Ostara banquet where Loki would make his debut was only a week away.

Ostara was an Asgardian festival to celebrate the coming of spring. There would be celebrations throughout the realm and the king always hosted a banquet for the noble families on the first night. Since the festival centered on the themes of youth and new life, it was the most popular time for young nobles to be introduced to the court. Everyone who was anyone would be there, clamoring to size up the king's new _kjæreste_. Though Loki was excited by the prospect, part of him also worried that his court manners and skills might be rusty.

Still, that was nothing compared to the anxiety he felt about spending the coming afternoon with Frigga. She had volunteered to help him prepare to be presented to the court, and Loki wasn't sure how to feel about it. Though she had shared a few meals with him and Thor since Loki moved in, today would be the first time he spent any extended time alone with her. Thor would be busy holding court all day, leaving Loki to face a test he had no idea how to prepare for, let alone pass. Frigga was beloved across the realm; if she found Loki distasteful, there was no telling the kind of havoc her influence could wreak upon his life whether Thor liked it or not. It wasn't as if Loki had never tried to make a good impression on someone before. But even in those cases, there was always a level of artifice to it. Loki didn't truly care what the person thought of him, only that he fooled them long enough to get what he wanted.

The stakes were so much higher now because, from his brief encounters with Thor's mother, he had the sense that she would not be so easily fooled. Though it pained Loki to admit it, he had no desire to trick her anyway. He truly wanted her to like him, _needed_ her to like him if he was to have any hope of building a life here. That was the problem with allowing himself to be vulnerable and embrace Thor's love; for the first time in ages, Loki actually had something to lose.

Frigga had been very kind to him so far, which Loki tried to take as a good sign. She was already much more welcoming than Sif and The Warriors Three. Although they had not uttered a rude word to him, their stiff postures and clipped words made it quite clear that they didn't trust him. He would have to figure out how to relate to them soon, especially Sif. She watched him like a warrior poised for battle, waiting to drive her sword into Loki’s chest at the slightest inkling of betrayal and that simply wouldn’t do. Loki rather liked being alive.

Just the thought of it had Loki's mind racing, wondering about all the information he still needed to learn, the dynamics, personalities, and relationships he would need to understand in order to navigate his life here. He closed his eyes a took a deep breath instead, letting the tension flow out of him. There would be time to worry about all of that later. For now, all Loki wanted to do was enjoy himself and bask in the lavishness of his new life.

Loki considered rousing Thor for another round, but he looked so peaceful that Loki hadn't the heart to wake him. Loki slipped out of bed and stretched his limbs, so deliciously sex sore that he sighed in pleasure. With quiet footsteps, he padded over to the armoire and pulled out a maroon silk robe, its fabric soft and luxurious against his bare shoulders as he slipped it on. The room was still a little bare, but Loki liked the openness of it all, the opportunity to stretch out, the time to make this place his own. Though Loki had visited Thor’s rooms, they spent most of their time in Loki’s apartments. Thor’s chambers were imbued with the weight of history, the centuries of life he’d lived before he and Loki had ever met. These chambers, however, felt like the start of something new.

Loki opened the glass doors and stepped out onto the balcony, the granite tiles smooth against his bare feet. There was a slight chill in the air, the final lingering bite of winter giving way to spring. The sun continued its slow ascent, rays of light reflecting off of the golden spires of the citadel. Loki crossed the balcony with lazy steps until he was leaning against the terracotta railing and staring out at the city, watching Asgard come alive. Golden airships whizzed by as they transported goods and people to different parts of the realm. In the distance, mountains stood tall in all their majesty and the glittering Bifrost seemed to go on forever. While Loki could see all the people bustling around, they could not see him up in the secluded balcony that looked over a private garden, a detail which was both very thoughtful and very selfish of Thor. Thankfully, Loki wanted to be able to have sex on the balcony as much as Thor did.

From the palace, he could really see the architecture in a way he couldn't from his window in the North Quarter. The Aesir really liked waterfalls, so much so that they had one that uselessly flowed out into the nothingness of space. Jotunn architecture was far more utilitarian. They didn't clutter their buildings or make things with no discernible purpose. Loki chuckled to himself. Truly, they should be grateful that Loki had never visited Asgard as a child; he would have delighted in turning the waterfalls into ice.

Still, there was beauty here too and Loki was growing to appreciate it more and more each day. Despite having lived in Asgard for over a year, it felt brand new because now Loki was seeing it through Thor's eyes. It was obvious how much he loved his home and took genuine delight in sharing it with Loki. Loki didn't miss his old life, but he had a soft spot for some of the people he’d left behind at the Crescent. He would always think fondly of Aldís and Elina, but he never worried about them. The entire realm could collapse tomorrow and Aldís and Elina would still be at the Crescent, unbroken and unbowed.

Loki closed his eyes and breathed in the air and the smell of flowers that had already begun to bloom. The balcony itself was decorated with all manner of foliage, including the large hydrangea plant Frigga had given him upon his arrival. Loki had thanked her and raised an eyebrow at Thor, who had merely shrugged.

"She was there when I picked some for you before you came to live in the palace. She must have remembered," Thor had told Loki afterward. Loki still wasn't quite sure what she’d meant by the gift.

Loki’s lips curved into a slow smile when he heard familiar footsteps behind him. Loki sighed and leaned into the touch when Thor wrapped his arms around him from behind. It was all still so new, and there was a part of him that was afraid that it wouldn't last, that Thor would change his mind someday and cast Loki out after all.

But today was not that day. Today Thor was holding him close, burying his nose in the crook of Loki's neck and breathing him in. Today he belonged to Loki, and Loki had no intention of giving him up.

"Are you hungry? I could have some food sent up," Thor said as he loosened his hold enough for Loki to turn around and face him. Thor looked positively debauched, wearing nothing but a pair of sleep pants that hung haphazardly on his hips and looked like they might fall off at the slightest breeze. His hair was disheveled and there were love bites all along his collarbone. He was utterly perfect and Loki had never wanted him more.

"I'm very hungry," Loki said as he looked Thor up and down. "But the food can wait."

"You're insatiable," Thor said with a predatory grin on his face.

Loki smirked. "You're no better," he said, but before he could breathe another word, Thor was picking him up and tossing him over his shoulder like he weighed nothing.

“Stop it,” Loki cried out as he squirmed in Thor's grip, utterly delighted when Thor only held him tighter. He halfheartedly pounded his fists against Thor's back but Thor only laughed and continued on, back into the bedroom. Loki struggled all the while, his arousal growing with every step. When they reached the bed, Thor unceremoniously dropped Loki there, the mattress bouncing with the impact.

"You brute," Loki said, panting hard as he gazed up at Thor, the challenge clear in his eyes. Thor pounced, climbing on top of Loki and pulling him into a fierce kiss. They spent the next several minutes kissing and tussling around the bed playfully. Loki knew that Thor could win if he really wanted to. When it came to brute strength, Thor clearly had him beat. But Thor didn't want to win just yet. They were both enjoying the game too much.

Loki twisted out of Thor's grasp and kicked out with his feet, sending Thor toppling over the side of the bed with a thud. Loki snickered, and Thor's overly dramatic groan of pain only made him laugh harder. He fully expected Thor to get up and fight back, but after several moments of silence Loki gave a long-suffering sigh and peered over the side of the bed. "Come now, it couldn't have hurt that—”

Thor gripped Loki's ankle with lightning fast speed and yanked him off the bed, pulling him in until he was straddling Thor. Thor laughed and settled his hands on Loki's hips.

"I can't believe you fell for that."

"I did not!"

"Yes, you quite literally did."

"Well, the joke is on _you_ , as I have you fully at my mercy now.“ Loki gripped Thor's wrists and pinned them down above his head.

"Is that so?"

"Indeed it is," Loki said with a slow grind of his hips that made Thor groan. "Whatever will I do with you now?"

Thor licked his lips. "Anything you wish, Loki."

"That's _Lord_ Loki now, and don't you forget it,” Loki said. "Although perhaps I've been too forward. What would my king bid me do? He has been known to have good ideas on occasion and I would be remiss without asking before I have my wicked way with him."

Thor reached a hand down between Loki's legs, and the delicious drag of his fingers made Loki shudder with pleasure.

"Oh, you're not nearly wet enough for the things I want to do to you. Come here, Loki. Let me make you wet."

A broken moan spilled forth from Loki's lips, so eager to feel Thor's tongue upon him again that he couldn't even muster the energy to roll his eyes at Thor's self-satisfied smirk. He positioned himself over Thor's face, biting his lips and moaning as he eased down and lowered his cunt against Thor's lips. Loki shuddered at the touch of Thor’s tongue against his wet folds, the way he licked into Loki like he was starving for it. Thor’s tongue was as exquisite as always, but there was something else Loki wanted more. Thor made a disappointed sound as Loki pulled away, but they both shuddered when Loki sank down on the hard length of Thor’s cock. Loki pressed his palms to Thor’s chest to give himself some leverage as he moved his hips in a slow grind. Thor’s beard was wet with Loki’s slick and Loki could taste it when he leaned down for a filthy kiss.

Thor made Loki arch and shiver as he ran his hands all over his chest. He flicked Loki’s nipples and laughed as Loki moaned in pleasured pain. Love and lust burned brightly in Thor’s eyes and his golden hair fanned out around his head, shining like spun gold. Loki didn’t think he would ever tire of seeing Thor this way. He picked up the pace, grinding his hips just this side of too slow in a deliberate tease. It didn’t take long for Thor to snap and Loki laughed delightedly when Thor flipped them over. He pinned Loki’s wrists down above his head and began driving into him hard, moaning with each snap of his hips.

“Thor, oh yes,” Loki choked out as Thor pounded into him, fucking him so good it made his eyes roll in the back of his head. His panted for breath, thighs quivering and cunt clenching as he shuddered through his climax. He could hear Thor’s desperate groans in his ear as he followed Loki over the edge.

After struggling to catch their breaths, they managed to climb back onto the bed. They lay side by side in the afterglow until both of their stomachs began to rumble.

"I suppose we should eat then. I'll send for food," Thor said.

“No, let me do it,” Loki said, blindly reaching out on his nightstand until he felt the familiar weight of the _sendimadr_ in his grasp. It was a flat golden disc with a triquetra carved on it, small enough to fit in the palm of Loki's hand. When activated, it produced a magically constructed projection that allowed the user to easily flick through images and descriptions to request what they wanted. The upper classes used them every day to communicate to their servants. Thor merely shook his head and smiled, as he found Loki's fascination with the little devices to be endearing. Loki had demanded a few additional ones from Thor, which were now in his workshop in various states of disassembly. He was curious about their inner-workings and how such magic might be applied in other ways.

Loki's own magic tended to be far more ephemeral, illusions and manipulations that were often silent and invisible. Asgardian magic was of a more solid, permanent nature. They placed great value in magical objects and artifacts, the most famous ones being Thor's hammer and Odin's spear. But interestingly enough, they also used this object-oriented approach to magic in everyday life to create things that were more accessible and made life easier for everyone. Not many Aesir had strong magic themselves, yet it was part of the fabric of their culture in a way that Loki found both fascinating and comforting.

Once Loki finished putting in the request for breakfast, he tossed the _sendimadr_ aside and curled up next to Thor again. They exchanged languid kisses while they waited for the servants to arrive and then enjoyed breakfast in bed. Loki had ordered a wide variety of food and their trays were laden with sausage and egg tarts, porridge with sweet honey and milk, fresh bread with plum jam, and a cornucopia of fresh fruit. They devoured everything, ravenous after their morning activities. Thor stacked their empty trays on his nightstand and then flopped back on the bed and sighed.

“I wish I could stay here all day, but I must leave soon and return to my duties.” Thor's eyes lit up. “And you'll be spending time with Mother. She's been eager to get to know you.”

“Has she now?” Loki said with a raised eyebrow.

Thor sat up and pressed a quick kiss to Loki's cheek. “Don't be nervous Loki, you have nothing to fear. My mother is very skilled with politics and the dynamics of the court. She will be far more helpful to you in this than myself or Sif. There is no one better to help prepare you for your debut.”

Loki nodded because he realized that either way, Thor was right. If she bore him no ill will her advice would be invaluable. And if she did, Loki would have to view the experience as a gauntlet of sorts; if he could survive an afternoon with a queen mother who hated him, then he could survive anything the courtiers could dish out.

“You mustn't worry, Loki,” Thor said as he used his thumb to smooth out Loki's furrowed brow. Loki scowled and swatted him away, which only made Thor laugh.“ Mother will adore you. And Sif will warm up to you in time. It's just an adjustment.”

“If you say so.”

Thor grinned. “I do.”

Reluctantly, Thor stood up and slipped on the clothes he’d worn last night. He had just enough time to return to his quarters and bathe before going off to hold court. Loki had a perfectly good bathroom of his own, but they both knew from experience that if Thor bathed there they would end up having sex again and never get anything done.

Thor leaned in and kissed Loki on the cheek. “What will you do with yourself for the rest of the morning?”

“For the moment, I vow to take a long bath and forget about everything for a while. Too bad you can't join me, Thor."

“You’re a terrible tease, Loki,” Thor chided.

Loki only grinned. “I know.”

Loki enjoyed the view as Thor walked away and then sighed and flopped back on the bed. This idyll would not last forever. But with all the struggle it had taken them to get to this point, Loki just wanted a little time to relax. He told himself he should try to enjoy the peace that comes from the eye of the storm. Instead, Loki was left with the feeling that the storm had yet to truly begin.

 

***

 

 Loki was on pins and needles as he walked down the gilded hallways to Queen Frigga’s rooms. He had spent all morning trying to plan and prepare, but when he tried to picture how the afternoon might go, he kept coming up blank. Not for the first time, Loki found himself wondering if he’d been crazy to say yes to Thor and voluntarily open himself up to such scrutiny.

Finally standing before the front door, Loki took a deep breath and smoothed out his tunic. He lifted a hand to knock on the door, but it was already opening. When he entered the room, Frigga greeted him with a warm smile.

“It’s nice to see you again, Loki. Please, come in.”

Loki’s mind drew a blank and he scolded himself internally for not having asked Thor what he should call his mother. “It’s good to see you as well, Your Majesty."

Frigga laughed softly. “Oh, there's no need to be so formal. Frigga is fine."

“Frigga it is then,” Loki said with a polite nod. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so awkward.

She gestured to the pale green settee behind her. “Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please,” Loki said as they sat down side by side.

Frigga reached out for the teapot that sat on the round table in front of them, surrounded by a small tray of fresh fruit and little honey cakes. A large bouquet of white starflowers in the middle of the table served as a centerpiece. As he watched her, Loki thought of Thor then and the uncanny similarities between them. Though she had a more restrained and graceful bearing, Loki could see Thor in the familiar warmth in her eyes, in the way she tilted her head to the side just so while pouring the tea, in the way she radiated confidence.

“Thank you,” Loki said as she handed him his cup. He took a moment to look around the spacious room, decorated in gold, lavender, and pale green. A dormant fireplace lay to their left and two plush armchairs sat across from them. Tapestries, tall bookshelves, and alcoves filled with little baubles and fresh flowers lined the walls. Beams of sunlight from the glass balcony doors shined upon the small dining area, and a chandelier hung above it all, delicate bubbles of blown glass that seemed to float in the air.

Loki brought his teacup up to his lips and smiled as he breathed in the scent. “Hibiscus. My favorite.”

“Thor mentioned that you prefer it. It’s a great favorite of mine too, it reminds me of my childhood in Vanaheim. Hibiscus grows more abundantly there than in Asgard.” She added a spoonful of honey to her tea and stirred. “I’m glad we’re finally having a chance to speak privately. Thor has sung your praises for months. I’m eager to get to know you for myself.”

“And I you,” Loki replied, stumbling over the words. His shoulders tensed as he wondered how he could possibly live up to Thor’s glowing endorsement. Loki was usually so eloquent, but with Frigga, so far he had only been able to manage short, stilted answers. Honestly, it was embarrassing. He took a deep drink of tea to calm himself, hating how the action had surely exposed his nervousness. The conversation continued, focused on benign topics such as how Loki was settling into his rooms and, of course, the impending banquet where Loki would make his official debut.

“I spoke to Sutari yesterday about my gown for the banquet and she spoke very highly of you.” Sutari was the finest tailor in all of Asgard, a diminutive woman with a shaved head, brown skin and dark eyes lined with kohl.

“Yes, thank you for sending her,” Loki said with a soft laugh as he remembered the tailor and her minions descending upon his chambers in a flurry of colorful fabric. Despite her size, she had a commanding presence that seemed to fill the room and carried herself with self-assured elegance. Asgardian nobles were constantly clamoring for her services, but she was very selective about which clients she took on. That Loki would be wearing one of her creations for his debut was quite the coup. He very much looked forward to reveling in the envy of the court.

“She seemed most delighted by your ideas. She said you presented her with an irresistible challenge.”

“As I aim to do in all my endeavors,” Loki said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice not as fluid as he would have liked, but he was starting to loosen up a little. Although he felt on shaky footing with Frigga, it had been easy to turn his charm on Sutari. She was an artist after all, and what artist didn’t want an opportunity to shine, to push further with their work and discover something new? That she had spoken well of him after their interactions pleased Loki greatly; it was nice to know that he hadn’t lost his touch.

“I hope she did not give too much away.”

Frigga smiled. “Of course not. Sutari has never been one to ruin a surprise. From what I know of Sutari and from what I know of you, it will surely be beautiful. Regal, even.”

“Yes, exactly,” Loki replied in a calm voice that belied his racing heart. He knew Thor hadn’t told her the truth of Loki’s origins. Thor had promised to keep Loki’s secret and he would never betray the trust he’d worked so hard to earn. Still, that didn’t mean Frigga couldn’t draw her own conclusions.

While Frigga had not fought on the front lines of the war between their peoples, she too was a player in the story. The purest of ire was reserved for Odin, but Queen Frigga was often spoken of with a grudging respect and for good reason. She had been instrumental in negotiating the cease-fire and tenuous peace between Asgard and Jotunheim that had held since then.

She had met Loki’s parents before he was even born. The war had only ever been a story to him, but to her, it had been painfully real. He felt himself at a severe disadvantage, as if she knew things about his past that he didn’t even know about himself. Could she see through Loki’s facade, past the mask of pale skin? Could she see Farbauti in the slope of his nose or Laufey in the curve of his jaw? It was impossible to discern the line between Frigga’s perception and Loki’s paranoia.

Frigga took a few sips of tea as they descended into a silence that Loki suspected was only uncomfortable for him. Loki had no shortage of topics he could discuss intelligently, but found himself at a loss now. For lack of anything better to do, he decided to add some honey to his tea and nearly knocked his cup off the table. With each passing moment, Loki grew increasingly frustrated with himself. He was usually so confident and good at reading people, but these skills had seemed to desert him when he needed them most. Would his obvious anxiety elicit her sympathy or just make her suspicious that he was hiding something? It was like attempting a balancing act despite not knowing which way was up and which was down.

“Loki, you must relax, my dear,” she said, giving him a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder. “Make yourself at home.” Though she seemed sincere, Loki couldn’t help but find her choice of words very interesting. Deliberate.

“I’m trying,” Loki said with a wry smile, knowing she was shrewd enough to gather his full meaning.

“Yes. And I hope I can help with that.”

Frigga picked up one of the delicate little honey cakes and Loki followed suit. It seemed to melt on his tongue, its sweetness a perfect counterpoint to the slight acidity of the tea.

“I remember when I left Vanaheim for Asgard as a young woman. Though Asgard and Vanaheim are very similar, it was still a culture shock for me. I was used to court life, but there is a vast difference between being the daughter of a noble family and being queen,” she said with a soft laugh.

“Odin and I were so foolish and in love back then, it’s hard to believe we were ever that young. When I look at Thor now and how happy he’s become, he reminds me so much of his father in those early days.”

“What was he like?” Loki asked.

“When we were courting, Odin brought me all manner of gifts. One evening he brought me a bouquet of starflowers and said they reminded him of me because I was his star. I laughed and told him he was ridiculous and completely unsuited for romantic gestures. He said he would give me starflowers every week for the rest of our lives if they would make me laugh like that.”

“And he did?”

“Yes,” Frigga said, her smile fading as she glanced at the bouquet before them. “These are the last ones, enchanted to live forever. Such a simple thing, but they make the burden of his loss a little easier to bear.”

Loki shook his head. “I can’t imagine.”

“Can’t you?”

And there it was, the real question laid bare. What Frigga and Odin had shared… this was the kind of love she wanted for Thor. But whether or not Loki was capable of giving it to him remained to be seen. She was so like Thor, how she could cut down to the crux of the matter with just a few words. And just like with Thor, Loki knew that artifice would get him nowhere in this conversation.

“I can. I can imagine it all too clearly.” Loki could feel the intense weight of Frigga’s accessing gaze upon him.

“I don’t know the details of your life, Loki, but I can tell you have known great loss. I can see it in your eyes.”

Loki swallowed hard and looked away. Much as he hated the turn this conversation had taken, he saw the necessity of it, the importance of making her _understand_ the depth of his regard for her son. “You’re not wrong. There is a reason I hesitated for as long as I did when Thor made his offer. I never wished to experience such loss again. I threw myself into a life of travel and adventure instead and for many years, it was a good one.”

Loki took a sip of tea. “Thor is not the first one to ask me to stay. To the others, I always said no, no need to think twice. It was easy to say no to life in a gilded cage.”

“And Asgard is different?” Frigga said with a raised eyebrow.

Loki shook his head. “Thor is different. Perhaps… perhaps Asgard would be just another gilded cage if I’d gotten this proposal from another. But Thor offered me something more. I began to see that if I was in a cage, it was one of my own making.”

Frigga nodded, the flicker of understanding in her eyes softening her expression. “To guard yourself against further loss.”

“Thor… he showed me that I didn’t have to live that way. I do not know what Asgard holds in store for me. I do not know if I can live _this_ way either,” he said, gesturing to the opulent room around them and all that it represented.

“But you’ll try your best. For him.”

The words that hovered on the tip of Loki’s tongue spilled forth as if by their own accord. “It’s different with him. Like breathing.”

“Effortless?”

“No,” he said, because nothing about this was easy. “Not effortless. Essential.”

Silence reigned and Loki’s limbs felt heavy, as if he might collapse under the weight of his own honesty.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” Frigga said, her tone compassionate but not entirely regretful.

Loki shrugged. “I cannot begrudge you for questioning my intentions. Were I in your position I would do the same.”

“Still, I thank you for your candor.”

“And I thank you for your understanding.”

They exchanged a look and Loki was relieved to feel the bulk of the tension in the room melt. He had passed the first test, though he had no doubt there would be others. Neither one of them was completely at ease with the other, but they were considerably further down the path. Frigga poured them each another cup of tea as they returned to safer topics, discussing Loki’s plans for remodeling his rooms.

Loki glanced out the window at the late afternoon sun, low in the sky. He took a final sip of tea and made to stand. “I should return to my rooms. Thor will be finished with his duties soon and Sutari wants to come by as well to do another fitting.”

“I look forward to seeing the finished product at the banquet, as will all of Asgard.”

“I won’t disappoint,” Loki said.

“Of that, I have no doubt. Whatever else you may be, Loki, you are far from dull. I see the potential in you to do great things and I know that my son sees it, too,” she said, her words both a kindness and a challenge.

“Oh, and Loki,” Frigga continued, “before you go I have a gift for you.” She went to her bookcase and returned with a heavy tome she placed firmly in Loki’s hands. The book was bound with luxurious brown leather and had gold, gilded pages. Yggdrasil was on the cover, its golden roots leading down to a horizontal line of five runes.

“You must be aware by now of how many of our magical devices work,” she said.

Loki nodded and traced along the lines of the tree. Sparks of magic hummed across his fingertips as the image gave off a warm, golden glow. The glow brightened and Loki gasped as he felt the magic in the room grow, a barely perceptible thrum rising up like a crescendo. With a great rush of power, the tension broke and right before Loki’s eyes, a grove of trees began to materialize. An ash, a beech, an oak, a willow, and a yew sprouted up, life-sized but made of magic rather than wood, semi-transparent amber-colored constructs that seemed to glitter in the waning sunlight. A canopy of connections formed between the trees and dozens of circular portraits wove themselves amongst all the branches, some familiar faces and some he’d never seen before.

“The five great houses of Asgard,” Loki said as he stared at the grove in breathless wonder. These were the most powerful people in Asgard, the families who were always represented on the High Council and had been instrumental in making the realm what it was today. It was amazing to see the power structure, the backbone of the realm visualized in this way. Loki noticed that not all of the portraits were in color and that a sizable minority were grayed out. Odin's portrait still had a bit of color but was clearly on its way to fading, too.

"I assume the colorless portraits are those of the dead," Loki said mostly to himself as he stood before the ash tree and inspected the image of Bor, Thor’s grandfather. He could see Thor in the strength of the man's jaw, but his eyes possessed none of the warmth that Thor's did. Perhaps he had gotten that quality from his mother's side of the family.

Loki’s thoughts couldn’t help wander to his own family, all their similarities and differences in appearance and temperament. There was no portrait of him back there, perhaps not even any record that he’d ever existed other than in hushed whispers. There would be no portrait of him here either. Despite the bond he had with Thor, Loki knew he’d always been an outsider in a way, homeless and unmoored. But now was no time to get buried under the weight of such things. For all his cunning, some situations simply could not be changed.

He turned his attention to Sif's portrait, noticing the silver band around the inside. “Why does Sif's portrait have silver as well as gold?"

"While she married into this family, she is the grand-niece of Forseti, the God of Justice. Silver signifies his house."

Loki’s eyes shifted to where the silver-lined portraits were concentrated in a tall beech tree, just like those used to make writing tablets long ago. With slow steps, he circled the willow tree, its leaves seeming to rustle with a preternatural wind. Njord’s blue-lined portrait was there along with others of his house, Asgard’s greatest seafarers and explorers.

Loki bounced on the balls of his feet, barely able to contain his excitement. He didn’t even know where to start. The grove was a gorgeous feat of sorcery in its own right, but it was also so much more. Loki was itching to touch and manipulate the constructs with his hands, to move them around and make it easier to see the complex connections. To study faces until he knew them as well as any native-born Asgardian and was prepared for the little games they might try to use his perceived ignorance to play.

Frigga’s warm hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his reverie.

“I apologize,” Loki said somewhat sheepishly. “I forgot myself in my fascination.”

“Think nothing of it,” she said with a kind smile. “Thor has never possessed much aptitude for magic. It’s nice to have someone around who truly appreciates the mystic arts.”

“Didn’t Thor burn down his magic tutor’s workshop as a child?”

Frigga laughed. “Not all of it, thankfully. I know you are curious to explore this further,” Frigga said as she gestured to the grove, “but there a few more things I must explain first. We have barely scratched the surface.”

Loki’s eyes lit up and Frigga smiled at him, obviously pleased by his reaction. For a moment, all divisions of status seemed to melt away and they were but two sorcerers excited over a clever bit of magic.

Loki glanced down at the book cover again and noticed that each rune was glowing a different color: red, silver, gold, blue, and green.

“These correspond to the trees, then?”

“Yes.”

Loki paused for a moment, his lips pursed in consideration. He traced along the golden glowing rune in the middle and all of the tree constructs glittered out of existence except for the ash, Thor’s whole lineage laid out before him. It occurred to Loki then that he’d spent so much time enthralled by the functions of the book’s cover that he hadn’t yet bothered to actually open the book itself.

“This book is the _Langniðiar,_ a record and a history of the five great families. Every birth and every death. Our weapons and artifacts, symbols and legends. Our greatest exploits and greatest disappointments. It’s all here.”

Loki flipped through the pages, his eyes skimming over snippets of stories and drawings. He saw Mjolnir, Gungnir, Freya’s feathered cloak, and so many other objects all rendered in beautiful detail.

“Thank you,” Loki said to Frigga with every ounce of sincerity he possessed. “This is… invaluable.” Having not grown up in Asgard, Loki had entered into this situation at a disadvantage. While the book wasn’t enough to completely bridge the gap, it was considerably lessened.

“Use it well. I have a feeling you will need it.” Frigga placed a hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met and her gaze seemed to bore down to the heart of him. “The days ahead will be difficult as you find your way. Some play the game for the thrill of it, for power and personal gain. Others do so out of duty, or their vision for the future, or to keep the people they love safe.

But when I look back on my life, the things I remember most are not the parties, the treaties, the machinations. I remember the quiet moments with my husband and my son. That is the center that holds it all together, that makes the inevitable trials bearable. Hold fast to that, Loki. Let love be your true north and you will never be lost.”

 

***

 

Frigga’s words were still ringing in his ears as Loki returned to his own quarters and put the book away for safekeeping. With the banquet only a week away, he had no doubt he’d be spending many hours pouring over its contents. When it came to court life, there was no such thing as being over-prepared.

Loki poured himself a glass of wine and sat on his balcony, watching the sunset over the shining city. His day with Frigga had left him drained and it was nice to have a moment alone to decompress. He took the time to reflect back on their conversation and the curious blend of clarity and uncertainty it had left him with. Frigga obviously knew more than she was telling and though she was not entirely on Loki’s side, she wanted to be. She wanted to believe in him and had a vested interest in his success, both for her son’s happiness and for Asgard. However, the extent of her knowledge about his past—and what she might decide to do about it—remained an unknown variable. Loki was hopeful that when the chips finally fell, they would do so in his favor.

Loki smiled as he heard the sound of his bedroom door opening and the familiar tread of Thor’s footsteps. As he turned to go back inside and greet his king, Loki thought he saw a black winged bird out of the corner of his eye. He paused briefly to look around, but there was nothing there. It was probably nothing more than a trick of the light.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The royal garden was in full bloom on the day of the Ostara banquet. Flowers of every color, shape, and size imaginable were in abundance, everything from amaryllises to zinnias in a riot of color against a bright blue sky. Loki’s private garden was lovely, but the royal garden was a whole other level of grand with its giant topiaries and fountain replica of the palace—complete with scores of little multi-colored primroses arranged to look like the Bifrost. The sun’s rays burned brightly, but the stone gazebo Thor and Loki sat underneath kept them cool as they finished eating a leisurely lunch. All in all, it had been quite a pleasant way to pass the afternoon.

As much as Loki enjoyed being sequestered away in his chambers with Thor, it was good to get out and about. He would need to get used to it anyway, now that his official debut was upon him. Thor and Loki chatted idly as they made their way back to the palace, walking arm-in-arm under a long pergola of vibrant purple wisteria vines. The sweet scent permeated the air as the pendulous flowers blew in the wind.

“I must return to my rooms. Sutari will be coming by soon to help me dress for the banquet,” Loki said.

“Are you sure I can’t watch?”

“You’re welcome to escort me to my chambers, but you will be allowed no further. I want to it be a surprise, even to you. Besides, getting dressed around you is impossible. You’re always trying to get me _out_ of my clothes.”

Thor clutched a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

Loki snorted and rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll be amazing, Loki. I can’t wait to see you.” Thor hesitated. “And if you’re nervous, there’s no shame in it.”

“I’m not nervous, Thor. I’m perfectly fine.” Sure, he’d had difficulty sleeping for the past several nights because of the gnawing anxiety deep in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t seem to shake, but he was fine. He’d handled worse and there was no reason to get upset or give Thor cause to worry.

Thor raised an eyebrow and shot Loki a dubious look.

“You’ve been spending too much time with me, Thor. You’re stealing my facial expressions.”

Thor smirked, which was even more disconcerting. “They’re quite useful. How does it feel to have the tables turned on you, Loki?”

“Terrible.”

Thor laughed and Loki couldn’t help joining in. “At least the exchange is only one way. Gods forbid I start picking up your habits, too.”

“I hate to tell you this,” Thor said in _sotto voce_ as he leaned in closer to Loki, “but you already have. Yesterday during dessert you popped that entire miniature lemon tart into your mouth without a single trace of irony.”

“What? I most certainly did not!”

“You most certainly did.

“Lies. Lies and slander.”

“Another habit of yours I picked up?” Thor teased.

Loki gasped. “How dare you,” he said, pushing Thor away in mock anger. They both dissolved into laughter as they turned a corner and nearly ran into Sif. She shot Thor a warm glance but her expression hardened when she saw Loki.

“Sif,” Thor said warmly before pulling her into a hug.

By the time Thor released her, the hard look in her eyes had slightly softened. Thor’s good humor was infectious and whether she liked Loki or not, there was no denying that Thor was happier now and Loki was the cause.

“Loki, it’s nice to see you again.” Her attempt at sincerity fell short, but Loki appreciated the effort.

“You too.”

“Thor, I was looking for you. I wanted to talk to you about the Alfar delegation attending the banquet tonight.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Loki said. “I must dress for this evening.”

Thor sighed. “If you must,” he said before pressing a kiss to Loki’s cheek.

Loki paused. “Sif, before I go… it has occurred to me that we have not truly had a chance to speak at length. Perhaps we should share a meal together soon, just you and I.”

Sif stared at Loki with narrowed eyes, as if she could peer down into the core of him and discern his motives. She sighed and nodded. “Very well then. We will dine later this week after you’ve had a little more time to settle in.”

Thor looked concerned. "Are you sure—”

"Yes," both Loki and Sif said at the same time, glaring at Thor.

"Oh Norns, what have I gotten myself into?" Thor muttered as he shook his head and looked heavenward.

Loki and Sif exchanged an amused glance. She quickly remembered herself and looked away, but it was a good sign. He had already made headway with one queen and now it seemed he would have the chance build a bridge with another.

 

***

 

Loki and Sutari briskly made their way down the palace hallways, weaving in between the stream of servants scrambling around to take care of the finishing touches, their arms loaded with bouquets of flowers and platters of food. Sutari looked like the living embodiment of spring in her gown, which was entirely made up of flowers arranged in a yellow to orange gradient across her body, everything from calla lilies to marigolds to daffodils. A headpiece that looked like a crown of golden butterflies adorned her head. She moved with practiced ease and Loki felt like he had to rush to keep up, despite being at least a foot taller than her. Curious glances followed them as they moved, but Loki followed Sutari’s lead and ignored them.

They continued making their way to Bilskinir, the banquet hall in Thor’s wing of the palace where the festivities would be held. It was smaller than the great hall and better suited for gatherings geared toward the nobility, rather than the entire population.

Sutari shot him a look. “Nervous?”

“Why do people keep asking me that?”

“It’s only natural. You’re about to be presented to the Asgardian court. The impression you make tonight will set the tone for the rest of your life here.”

“I feel better already,” Loki deadpanned.

“Don’t fret. Frankly, I would be more concerned if you _weren’t_ nervous. The sense of uncertainty, the danger of it all… that’s what keeps us on our toes, isn’t it?”

Loki laughed. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” It almost sounded like something he would say. He knew there was a reason he liked her so much.

“It’s good that we did a trial run a few days ago,” Sutari said as they turned a corner. “The cape wasn’t flowing quite right, but now it should be perfect. And you know I never deliver anything less than perfection.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m counting on.”

They turned another corner and found themselves face to face with the entrance to the banquet room. Golden brocade curtains covered a giant archway and a relief of Thor’s hammer was etched into the top of the arch. Loki could hear the susurrus of voices and applause coming from inside the hall. The royal family and High Council would have already made their entrance, as well as a few foreign dignitaries from Alfheim. All that remained were the young lords and ladies who had come of age and were being presented to the court for the first time.

And Loki, of course.

Sutari stared at Loki with laser focus, sizing him up and making little adjustments. Loki glanced at the young lords and ladies as Sutari worked, taking in their curious stares and hushed whispers to each other.

 _Let them talk_ , Loki thought. If this all went according to plan, Loki would be the talk of the town by the end of the evening anyway.

Sutari stepped back to assess her handiwork, hands on her hips.

“It’s fine,” Loki said, but she held up a hand to shush him.

“Don’t interrupt an artist at work, my dear.” She inspected him further, reaching out to remove imaginary lint. It didn’t seem necessary, but Loki was hardly going to argue about it.

“Satisfied?” Loki teased.

“Quite. The king chose well with you. You’re a stunning creature on your own, but with my intervention, you will truly shine. Now go out there and wow them.”

“Ten paces, right?” Loki said with a sly smile.

Sutari smiled back at him, his co-conspirator. “Ten paces.”

Loki nodded at her and moved closer to the archway. There were only two young men in front of him who had yet to enter the hall. Loki took a deep breath to center himself. The nervousness in the pit of his stomach was still there, but no longer such a leaden weight. He could do this. However he felt about his estranged homeworld, he was a prince, born and raised.

The last young man entered the hall, leaving Loki alone in front of the archway. Sutari had already slipped inside, eager to see her creation come to life. When the applause inside had died down, Loki breathed a few words under his breath. This would prime the spell to trigger at the right time.

“Lord Loki of Asgard.”

_Showtime._

Loki strode into the hall dressed in all black, luxurious silks and leather that shone like obsidian in the golden light. His pants and shirt were made up of intricate folds, woven patterns and asymmetrical lines to create a texture that evoked the image of raven feathers. More layers of silk entwined across his chest, form-fitting yet sophisticated. A hood covered his hair leaving only his face visible, luminous pale skin, eyes lined with black and gold kohl, and cheekbones so sharp they could cut glass. He appeared to the court as an otherworldly creature, a mysterious stranger cloaked in midnight.

The opulence of the room around him and the hushed whispers as people craned their necks to get a better look were all relegated to the periphery. None of it touched him. He just held his head high and continued forward at an unhurried pace in his supple leather boots, by far the finest pair Loki had ever owned.

Loki took his tenth step and the transformation began, a low thrum of magic in the air.

The weave of his pants now shifted with each step, revealing gold fabric that seemed to ripple up the side seam like a chain reaction. Black silk twisted and unbound itself from across his chest, revealing emerald green on the other side that billowed out into a cape and elegantly flowed behind him. With another rustle of fabric, the hood slipped off his head revealing his hair pulled back and bound, held secure by interlocking pieces of gold. Another step and the hood split down the middle, fluttering about until it hung halfway down his back, a shorter, black cape on top of the green one. His neck was now exposed, along with the scale mail choker that had been hidden underneath, fine bits of gold linked together like flower petals. Audible gasps rang out through the room when the necklace rippled and uncoiled like a snake, metamorphosing until it settled as spaulders on each shoulder.

Loki allowed himself a small smile as he kept walking and the golden hair piece moved like clockwork, releasing his hair until it cascaded around his shoulders in loose waves. The pieces kept moving, clicking and connecting into a headpiece that framed Loki’s face, two small horns protruding from the crown.

Loki reached the end of the path, taking a bow before the royal family where they were seated on the dais. The crowd’s applause was thunderous and Loki’s veins thrummed with relief and excitement. Whatever else the court thought of him, he had dazzled them with the spectacle of it all, transforming like coal into shining diamond.

Loki stood before the court of Asgard in all his glory, but all he could see was Thor. They locked eyes and Loki winked at him. Thor's answering grin could have lit up the sky.

 

***

 

Dinner was a lively affair, everyone in good spirits and laughter all around. The tables were laden with an abundance of smoked lamb and duck, fragrant stews, roasted vegetables and warm bread slathered with honey butter that seemed to melt in the mouth. Mead and sweet wine flowed freely and servants dashed around, diligently making sure no goblet ran dry.

Loki watched it all from his seat at the high table at Thor’s right hand. It had been years since Loki had eaten at such a feast, and even longer since he’d enjoyed one with an honored seat at the table. Thor’s cheeks were a little flushed from the mead and he hadn’t been able to stop smiling since Loki made his debut. His good cheer was infectious, enough to temporarily smooth any underlying tensions between Loki, Sif, and the Warriors Three. Frigga’s presence also helped keep the conversation pleasant and interesting.

Over the course of the meal, many people got up to come pay their respects to Thor and get a closer look at Loki. He was met with curiosity, admiration, lust, jealousy, disdain, and everything in between, reactions that all pleased him greatly. He hadn’t set out to be liked. He’d set out to be intriguing and had achieved his goal with flying colors; people would be talking about his debut for a long time to come. Many fashionable young lords and ladies approached him, all dying to know more about his outfit, which Loki was happy to discuss. For all he knew, he may have started a new fashion trend and kinetic clothing might soon be all the rage; Sutari would surely be pleased to be even more sought after than before.

The sound of instruments tuning carried across the hall, a signal that the band was about to begin.

“Shall we?” Thor asked.

Loki smiled and took Thor’s hand as they made their way to the floor to dance the _vára_ , an intricate group dance to celebrate the coming of spring. Though Loki was a quick study, learning the dance had taken him far longer than it should have. Having Thor as a teacher was entirely too distracting and they’d done far more kissing than actual dancing during the lessons.

A dozen couples lined up and faced each other, leads on one side and followers on the other. As the king (and more experienced dancer in this case), Thor was on the leading side and Loki spotted a few more familiar faces further down the line. Some he had only seen in the _Langniðiar_ and others he had met personally, like Sif and Fandral.

His eye was drawn to the profile of a woman with long blonde tresses, dressed in a green gown that shone like malachite. It was a well-made garment, though the particular shade of green made her look slightly washed out and the sheer number of gold embellishments was a little garish. Based on where she was positioned, she would be his final partner for the dance. She seemed familiar, but Loki couldn’t quite place her until she turned her head to speak to the woman next to her. It was the sorceress Amora, whom Loki and Thor had passed in the hallway on the night Thor brought him to the palace for the first time. Much like that evening, she was paired up with Tyr. He was head of the Einherjar, the elite warriors who served as the palace guards and law enforcers for the realm. Loki remembered Thor saying that Amora and Tyr were quite the odd couple, but it looked like they were still going strong. _Interesting._

The tuning stopped and all the couples adjusted to make sure they were arranged accordingly. The music began simply, just a lute, a harp, and a heavy drum, slow and steady like a heartbeat. Loki knew that it would build up over time, like the spring thawing away the lingering cold of winter. Thor winked and Loki rolled his eyes fondly as they approached each other, elbows bent and hands extended. They clasped hands and gazed into each others’ eyes as they turned in slow circles in time with the drumbeat.

“Why are you looking at me that way?” Thor teased. “You’re not the only one who’s allowed to wink.”

“Perhaps not, but you must admit I lend it a certain style.”

“That you do,” Thor said. They switched arms as another drum joined the fray and the music began to pick up speed. “Are you enjoying yourself, Loki? You’ve made quite the stir.”

“Well, I always aim to please.”

They released each other and spun in a circle before returning and linking arms. Thor leaned in close, his breath warm against Loki’s ear as they stepped and glided in unison.

“Can you admit now that you were nervous?”

Loki sighed. “Maybe a little,” he conceded, “but don’t pretend you weren’t nervous, too.”

“Of course I was,” Thor said matter-of-factly. Loki was slightly envious of the way Thor was so free with his emotions. “Not because of how it would reflect on me, but because of what it might mean for you. I have the utmost faith in you, Loki, but I have no illusions about court life. I know that people can be quite ruthless.”

“I can too, Thor.”

“I know. But you shouldn’t have to be. I worry for you, Loki. My position allows me to wield great power, but I cannot single-handedly stop gossip or stem the tide of public opinion should it turn negative.”

Though technically he could make a pretty good show of it if he wanted to; plenty of other kings were more than happy to string people up for treason for speaking even the slightest bit out of turn. Thor, however, was not one of them. Loki wouldn’t be here if he was.

“You were magnificent by the way. To see you before the court… you looked like you belonged there, Lord Loki.”

As much as Loki enjoyed hearing his title called out before the court, it was even better to hear it from Thor’s lips, spoken with such obvious affection. It was nice to have Thor alone, even if only for a couple minutes.

“You were magnificent, too,” Loki said.

Thor grinned. “So complimentary. You’re certainly in high spirits tonight.”

Loki laughed as Thor spun him around. “It was the first time I’ve truly seen you as King Thor. Sitting on the dais and at the high table. Radiant and larger than life, like something out of a storybook. Loyal subjects all around, their gazes locked upon the son of Asgard.”

“And you, who sees beneath the trappings and knows me in a way they never will.” Loki’s cheeks flushed and the look Thor shot him was unbearably fond. They came together, hands clasped and bodies pressed close as they spun and twirled. Each couple followed suit, moving around the dance floor in a circle, their fine clothing swishing and shimmering in the light. Smiles and laughter all abounded as the music grew livelier, bright horns and flutes bringing the song to new heights.

“I have one last question for you, Loki,” Thor said. “Does the transformation stop here? How does all of this come off?” He looked Loki up and down and Loki smirked at him.

“Oh, I have a private show for you later.”

“You’re an unbearable tease. I shall miss you terribly,” Thor said in a heated whisper that made Loki grin. Perhaps it was foolishly sentimental, but Loki did feel bereft when they turned and switched partners, the phantom warmth of Thor’s hand still lingering on his skin.

With a mutual nod of acknowledgment, Loki and Sif linked arms and she began guiding him through the next steps. She was dressed in a royal blue gown, dark hair framing her face and cheeks slightly flushed from exertion. Loki watched her move, noting that she was graceful in a way that reminded him of Thor. It was a grace not borne from delicacy or demureness, but from self-assurance and complete confidence in her physical prowess, like she would be equally at ease dancing as she would slaying a dragon.

“I’ve been watching you tonight, Loki. You're very charming," Sif said as they clasped hands and wove their way around two other couples.

"Why thank you," Loki replied breezily, though he knew her comment was not intended as a compliment.

"You may be able to charm the court and I'm grateful for it for Thor's sake. But you don't fool me."

“And what of Thor? Do you think I mean to fool him?”

“I don't know the full extent of your intentions toward him, but if you betray him, not even his mercy will stay my blade.”

They released hands, spinning into a pass of intricate footwork that brought cheers and applause from the crowd.

“Thor is a good man, but he is sometimes too quick to trust.” Sif continued when they came back together again, both a little out of breath. “He... feels things so deeply.”

"Yes, he is distinctly lacking in self-preservation at times," Loki said dryly. The corners of Sif's mouth quirked up for a brief moment.

“For what it’s worth,” she said, “I am glad you suggested that we dine together.”

“I know you may not believe me, but I would like to get to know you.”

“I _do_ believe you. It is your motives for doing so that concern me. Knowledge is power after all, and that power can be wielded as well as any sword.”

“I don’t intend for our exchange to be one way. You will gain knowledge of me as surely as I will gain knowledge of you.”

“Mutually assured destruction,” she scoffed in a low voice that was almost lost amidst the sound of rising music and stomping feet.

Loki shook his head. “I have seen enough destruction in my travels and I have no appetite for more. I bear you no ill will. Thor cares for you deeply and it seems that affection is well earned.”

Sif sighed. “And he truly cares for you, too.”

“I don’t know about you, but all in all, I have found Thor to be an excellent judge of character.”

She gave a little laugh of amused disbelief and shook her head. “Perhaps we should follow his lead. We will speak more at our dinner, _Silvertongue_ ,” she said as they released hands for the last partner switch.

Loki turned and faced Amora, who greeted him with a friendly smile as they clasped hands. She was a good dancer and was easy to follow as she led him across the floor, moving with a sylphlike elegance. Her tall shoes mitigated most of the height difference between them and he only had to lean down a little bit to hear her well.

“Hello, I am Lady Amora. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Loki,” she said, which immediately rubbed him the wrong way. She called him by his title, but the obeisance in her tone rang false, as if she wanted to make inroads with him for some purpose and thought perhaps respectfulness would gain his favor. For the time being, Loki saw no reason not to play along with her little scheme.

“It’s still so strange, having a title,” Loki said. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

Her eyes lit up at his words and it took everything Loki had not to smirk. “I’m sure you’ll grow more accustomed to it over time,” she said in a reassuring tone. “You’re doing well so far. That was quite the presentation earlier.”

Loki smiled. “Thank you. I must confess I was a little nervous, but everyone has been so kind to me,” Loki said, laying the bait. “I was so pleased with the way things turned out. Sutari is a genius.”

“Oh indeed, but surely you had some hand in it, too? I’ve heard that you have a gift with magic, I’m sure that must have helped set the transformation in motion.”

“I have a little magic, yes. But with my former… lifestyle, I never had time to truly explore it.” He was worried he was laying it on a little too thick, but the calculated pity in her eyes told him she was really eating up his tragic backstory.

“That’s a terrible shame. I’m a sorceress myself, and I’d be more than happy to share my knowledge with you,” Amora said. As they glided across the floor arm-in-arm, the music rose and people began clapping in time with the beat, encouraging the dancers on.

“But even without formal training, you mustn’t sell yourself short. Your presentation was beautiful. Others may disagree, of course, but that’s just court life. People can be so cruel.”

“Really?” Loki said with a frown, really selling the disappointment. “Is court life really so difficult? I thought that the gossip mill at the Crescent Moon would at least prepare me a little bit.”

Amora laughed as they wove their way around a few other couples. “Oh, how quaint. Any intrigue you experienced at that… _establishment_ would pale in comparison to the Asgardian court. But I would be happy to help you find your footing. We mages must stick together, right?”

“Perhaps you’re right.”

Loki leaned in closer. “If I may, can I ask what negative things people said about me?”

“Oh, I really shouldn’t repeat it, but perhaps I would be doing you a disservice by keeping you in the dark.” She sighed, as if it truly pained her to reveal these things. “I heard some say it was absolutely garish. Vulgar, gaudy, and completely over the top. I thought it was lovely, but people can be so vicious.”

Loki knew exactly what she was doing, as he’d done it himself many times before. The flattery, finding common ground, and then preying upon his perceived insecurities? It was classic manipulation. A dance was just a brief moment in time, but if she hooked him now, it would be easy to ingratiate herself with him later. Loki had enjoyed playing the “common whore elevated to a high position and in over his head,” but now it was time for Lady Amora to learn that her pedestrian attempts at manipulation would get her nowhere.

“Really?” Loki said, inflecting his voice with hurt.

“Yes. I’m so sorry.”

Loki paused. “I confess, I find that hard to believe.”

“Oh?”

“In my experience, it’s simply not possible for Asgardians to think something is too gaudy or over the top,” he said with a pointed look around the room and a derisive glance at Amora’s own outfit.

Her eyes flashed with anger as she realized she had been played.

“I hope those comments don’t make their way back to Sutari,” Loki continued. “She’s been so good to me and she worked so hard.”

“Oh, I’m sure they won’t,” Amora said, looking a little alarmed. Sutari was not the kind of person you wanted to cross.

Loki shrugged. “I wouldn’t be so sure. At the Crescent Moon, gossip always had a way of getting back to people. I’m curious to see how much court life differs.”

All traces of Amora’s friendly facade dropped and the look she gave Loki could have shattered glass. “Oh, you’ll learn soon enough. I’m sure of it.”

Cymbals crashed and the music rose in a fever pitch as the crowd cheered and clapped along with the beat. The room was awash in sound, color, and _life,_ the dancers’ dynamic movements perfectly in sync with the song. Loki and Amora clasped hands and spun around again and again with dizzying speed, hair whipping in the air as they glared at each other with a challenge in their eyes all the while. They released each other and spun wildly, struggling to maintain balance. With a final clap and shout, the dance was over.

“Thank you for the dance,” Amora said after they’d had a chance to catch their breaths.

“It was my pleasure,” Loki said with a smirk. He glanced up and saw Thor, Sif, and Tyr approaching, all in high spirits after the dance. Tyr paused to grab a glass of mead from a passing servant, but they otherwise carried on unhindered, everyone eager to make way for the king.

“Hello Amora,” Thor said. “I see you’ve met Loki.”

Amora smiled, her friendly facade now firmly in place once more. “Yes, we had a lovely dance, it was nice to have a chance to get to know each other.”

“I bet she talked to you about magic,” Tyr said, shaking his head fondly. “She was terribly excited after seeing your display. I’m glad she has someone to discuss these things with, as I am utterly hopeless.”

Thor laughed. “Me too,” he said, exchanging a look of affinity with Tyr. It was good to see them getting along. Loki remembered Thor mentioning the way Tyr had been distant towards him after Odin’s passing.

“Loki, this is Tyr,” Thor said.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Tyr said to Loki with a respectful nod. Asgardians tended to shake hands, but Tyr only had one hand, which was already occupied holding his he’d. Loki didn’t know the full story, but apparently he’d lost the other one during the war with Jotunheim. The lack of a handshake could have been nothing or perhaps Tyr had found a socially acceptable way to slight him. Only time would tell.

“I must confess that I _did_ ask Loki about his magic,” Amora said to Tyr. “It seems that I am entirely too predictable to you now, you know me so well.”

“Yes, my daughter has always been fond of the mystic arts. I’m quite proud of her accomplishments,” said an older man who sidled up to them. Tall and distinguished, he had a neat beard that did not quite hide the scar on his chin, the only imperfection that marred his handsome features.

“Father,” Amora said with a smile as she pressed a kiss to the man’s cheek.

“Hello, daughter,” he replied. Loki could easily see the family resemblance in the slope of their brows and the curve of their lips. They had the same golden blond hair—though the man’s was streaked with white—and the same cunning green eyes. More pleasantries were exchanged all around until the heavy weight of the man’s gaze rested on Loki.

“And you must be Loki. I am Lord Steinn.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Loki replied as they shook hands. He had the distinct sense he was being sized up.

“I’ve served on the High Council for many years and have known Thor since he was but a babe.”

“What was Thor like as a child? I’m always curious to hear stories.”

Steinn smiled. “Oh, he was always a spirited boy with a reckless streak a mile wide. Sometimes I fear that streak has only widened as you’ve grown,” Steinn said with a pointed look at Thor. “Storm-god though you may be, careful consideration in matters of policy is important for any king. Had the High Council not helped you resolve your foolish blunder with the trolls, they surely would have torn the realm apart. I know we all miss your father, but I for one am thankful he wasn’t around to see your many stumbles so far.”

Loki’s eyes widened in shock, jarred by the harshness of Steinn’s comment. He looked at the others, and though Thor’s eyes briefly flashed with hurt, no one seemed anything more than slightly uncomfortable by the exchange.

Thor gave an exasperated sigh. “Must we?”

“I apologize,” Steinn said, patting Thor on the shoulder. “I should save talk of such things for High Council meetings. If I am hard on you, it’s only because I see such potential in you to be a great king. Tyr can certainly vouch for my methods.”

“Aye,” Tyr said with a gruff smile. Gruff seemed to be Tyr’s default setting. “You helped me get through the Jotunn war nearly fully intact.” Loki could feel Amora’s gaze on him, watching his expression for any reaction to the mention of his homeworld. He gave her nothing. “You also helped me to become the leader of the Einherjar that I am today.”

“You see, it’s just tough love, my boy,” Steinn told Thor. “I’m sure I’ve frustrated _you_ just as often as you have me, if not more so.”

Everyone laughed, all ruffled feathers now smoothed. Loki still seethed with anger on Thor’s behalf. Part of Loki couldn’t believe they were all just going to let it go, but the more he thought about it, the more it made a strange sort of sense. The Asgardians were so used to Steinn’s demeanor that it was unremarkable to them; a fish had no concept of water.

“I suppose it cannot be helped,” Thor said.

“We all are who we are, deep down,” Steinn said as he turned his attention back to Loki. “Forgive me for the digression, Loki. Tell me, are you finding Asgard to your liking?”

“Oh yes,” Loki said as he launched into a humorous tale about getting lost in the vast hallways one evening. Telling the story only took a fraction of Loki’s attention; he could do this kind of thing in his sleep. He put the rest of his mental energy toward considering Steinn. During their few minutes of conversation, Steinn had painted a picture of himself as a man with an occasional sharp tongue whose bluntness came from an honest place of good intentions. A solid, upright man, a doting father, a trusted advisor.

_A lying, manipulative bastard._

His comment toward Thor had been cruel, but he’d used their shared history and centuries of goodwill to soften it. Steinn was a snake; Loki knew his type. It took one to know one, after all. Amora was no better and Loki also found Tyr’s obvious admiration toward Steinn to be very worrying. He hoped for Thor’s sake that he was wrong on that front, that Tyr was still the man he thought he was.

“And that is how I found myself trapped in the royal pantry in the middle of the night. Thankfully, the bakers came to start on the daily bread an hour later and saved me,” Loki said with a grin and everyone laughed at the conclusion of his tale. Amora and Tyr went back out onto the dance floor, Sif had moved onto chatting with some of the Valkyrior, and Thor flashed Loki an apologetic smile as he was pulled away into a conversation with another advisor. Their little group had disbanded until only Loki and Steinn remained.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Loki. It’s unfortunate that we won’t have a chance to get better acquainted.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why is that.”

“It’s simply that I doubt our paths will cross much. Our… duties to the king lie in very different areas,” he said, the affable tone of his voice belied by the cruelty in his eyes. “I don’t mean to denigrate your particular talents, of course.”

“Of course you don’t,” Loki said flatly, annoyed but unsurprised. Did Steinn really think he was the first person to call Loki a whore? Loki knew it was smarter to play the fool in this situation, to stay below the radar and allow Steinn to think he was a harmless dilettante. Steinn was not Amora; he was far more dangerous. She was a gifted sorceress, but she did not have her father’s position, connections, or experience. Being in Steinn’s presence triggered something in Loki’s hindbrain, warning him he was in the presence of a predator. But then again, the man was looking entirely too pleased with himself and Loki had never been able to abide people insulting his intelligence.

“Thor is clearly quite smitten with you, it’s nice to see him so happy after the troubles he’s had with his reign so far.”There it was again, Steinn’s casual belittlement of Thor. It was even more glaring now without any Asgardians around to normalize it.

“No one bursts forth from the womb knowing exactly how to be the perfect leader, but I have the utmost faith in Thor’s abilities. I’m most appreciative of the way he values my counsel and I’m always happy to be a sounding board for the king. I am an excellent listener, after all. Another one of my particular talents.”

“Oh, there’s no need to concern yourself with such things. Politics is the province of boring old men,” Steinn said with a self-deprecating smile. “Surely there are more interesting ways to occupy your time. It would take lifetimes to explore all the wonders Asgard has to offer. There is a reason we call it the Realm Eternal.”

“The Realm Eternal,” Loki said, the barest hint of mockery in his tone. “Nothing is eternal, though I must admit that the romance of such an idea has its charms. It’s a sentiment that people of your generation, in particular, seem inclined to share. I admire the way Asgardians never lose their sense of… grandeur.”

Steinn’s eyes went cold and his lips pursed with displeasure, the first true expression of what lay behind the mask. Loki flashed him a smug smile.

_Not so self-possessed now, are you?_

“Though you are welcome here in Asgard, of course,” Steinn said, a statement so disingenuous that Loki could barely resist rolling his eyes, “as an outsider and a wanderer there are simply some things you cannot understand.”

“Oh, on the contrary, Lord Steinn. I feel that traveling has actually broadened my perspective.”

Steinn inclined his head. “Perhaps. But a rock skipping across the surface cannot fathom the depth of the ocean, now can it?”

Loki glared and Steinn continued on undeterred. “As an outsider, you have entered into court life at a disadvantage, but this is a fact you can hardly be faulted for. Enjoy your time here and don’t trouble yourself over such things. A pebble cannot grasp the majesty of a mountain range.”

“Ah, but not every mountain among the range is of equal strength,” Loki said. Anger burned like a bright, hot coal in Loki’s chest, but he mastered the feeling, containing and channeling it. When he looked up at Steinn again, his gaze bore into the man with the low, steady burn of banked embers.

“Do you know how mountains meet their end, Lord Steinn?” Loki drawled. “They stand in place, broken down by the passage of time. By water, that most adaptable of elements that moves freely through rock and stone and freezes in the crevasses.”

Steinn’s eyes narrowed. “Just as some Jotunns are runts, some rivers are merely streams,” he said sharply. “Your transformation this evening was quite beautiful, but it is rare for someone to truly transcend their nature. Court life can be… difficult for those who do not know their place.”

“If one of us is harboring illusions about his place, I assure you that it isn’t me. Good evening, _High Councillor_.” Whatever aspirations to power this man had, he was not king and would do well to remember that.

Steinn paused for a long moment and stared at Loki as if seeing him for the first time. “I fear I may have underestimated you. I won’t make that mistake again. Good evening, _Lord Loki_.”

With a quick incline of his head, Steinn turned to go, moving through the crowd with self-confident ease. Loki stared after him, his chest a swirling mass of anger, the thrill of the challenge, and the sinking feeling that he’d agreed to play an incredibly dangerous game without truly knowing the ground rules.

 

***

 

Loki continued making his way around the room. After being roped into a few boring conversations with lords who loved the sound of their own voices, Loki found himself almost wishing he still worked at the Crescent; at least he would be getting paid to listen to this drivel.

He looked out into the crowd to try and find someone moderately intelligent to talk to but instead found himself waylaid yet again, this time by a minor nobleman named Lord Erlend and his wife Lady Gyda. Gyda wore a dark purple gown and her hair in dark ringlets piled atop her head, pretty in a forgettable sort of way. Erlend was a large man with a strong jaw, closely cropped silver hair, and an overinflated sense of self-importance. His expression was blank, but the natural curve of his lips gave the impression of someone who sneered often and smiled little. Before Loki knew it, a small crowd had gathered around them, everyone clamoring for a closer look at the king’s new _kjæreste._

“How are you liking Asgard, Loki?” Lady Gyda asked.

“I’m enjoying it very much, springtime is truly beautiful here.”

“Of course Jotunheim can’t offer such pleasures. It’s such an inhospitable land,” a young man said, casual disdain in his voice as he dismissed an entire realm without a second thought. Loki seethed internally. The Aesir were so predictable.

"Oh no, on the contrary. Jotunheim is absolutely lovely this time of year. You know, snow. Ice. More snow," Loki said, and the tension was diffused when everyone laughed. He regaled them with a tale of his adventures exploring the majestic ice caves of Jotunheim, the walls made up of translucent ice formations in brilliant shades of blue that shone like spun glass. The Asgardians hung onto his every word and Loki's heart raced with the thrill of holding an audience in the palm of his hand, the high stakes in this case making it that much more exciting.

"So, what brought you to Asgard then?” another woman asked.

Loki leaned in and gave the group a conspiratorial look. "Though it may be hard to believe, as lovely as snow is, it gets a bit old after a few centuries," he said, and there was more laughter all around. "But truly there's so much to see out here in the other realms and I've always been a bit of an adventurer."

“I’m curious to know, why did you change your skin?” Lord Erlend asked. “If I didn’t know better, I would have easily mistaken you for one of us.” He was quite a rude man and Loki didn’t appreciate his tone one bit.

“I’m afraid the reason is a rather boring, practical one. I would simply overheat,” Loki said with a good-natured laugh. “I nearly died in Vanaheim during my first visit, but a kind sorceress came to my aid.”

“I thought you were a sorcerer yourself,” the redheaded woman asked again.

“I have some knowledge of _seidr_ , but I would hardly call myself a sorcerer.” It would not do for the court to know the extent of his power, especially not so early in the game. “I can only do silly things, little trifles.” With a flick of a wrist, he conjured a silvery mage light in the palm of his hand that transformed into a kaleidoscope of butterflies, flapping their shimmering wings and then dissipating into nothingness. The display was greeted with delighted laughter and a smattering of applause.

“That was quite cleverly done,” Erlend said begrudgingly. “You may be _ergi_ , but you are not without your charms.”

A hush went over the group. All eyes were on Loki as he frowned and stroked his chin.

"Ergi? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the concept," Loki said, though this was a lie. It was a nasty word associated with sorcery and the perception that practicing _seidr_ was somehow “unmanly”. For this reason, it was also a cruel insult reserved for the receiving partner during sex between men, as if such a thing was weak or shameful. In Loki's homeland, being the receiving partner (and thus the one who bore children) was honored and revered. All the high ranking lords bore their own children. It was simply more practical that way. After all, how else could you be certain that your line would continue?

The crowd’s attention turned to Lord Erlend, everyone waiting with bated breath to see how he would respond. He was a dull, prejudiced old man, the kind Loki could run circles around in his sleep. It was actually rather relaxing after dealing with the likes of Lord Steinn.

Loki smirked internally. _Oh, but this_ _is going to be_ fun _._

Erlend started to speak, but his wife cut him off. "It's a largely outdated term," she said with a pointed glare at her husband, "that well... that tends to relate to men who practice _seidr_."

"Ahh," Loki said. "So surely it must be a good quality then, since I have heard many stories about King Odin's gift for sorcery."

"No no, I never said Odin was ergi," the man protested in a hushed voice, as if trying not to make a scene. Loki merely stared at him, his expression the picture of confusion.

"But it's a term related to male sorcerers, yes?"

"Yes."

"And the late king was very gifted in the art?"

"Well, yes but—”

"Then I fail to understand. Surely, from what you've said, the term would apply."

"No no," Erlend stammered, his face bright red. "You misunderstand."

Loki inclined his head and offered the man a gracious smile. "Forgive me. I must confess that I find your people confusing at times, but I hope I will grow to understand more of your customs soon."

Loki looked out into the crowd. "Oh dear, I think the king is looking for me, so I really must go. But it was lovely to meet you all, and especially you Lord Erlend. I will have to ask Thor more about this... ergi later."

"That... that is hardly necessary—”

"Like any son, he misses his father and it does his heart good to speak of his grief from time to time. I'll be sure to tell him your kind words about his father's gift for sorcery and tell him to thank you personally for bringing it to my attention."

Loki sauntered away, barely resisting the urge to laugh as he left Lord Erlend flushed and sputtering in his wake. He took a goblet of wine from a passing servant and stared out into the crowd. He saw some familiar faces, old clients such as Lady Svana talking and laughing with a group of ladies and Lord Drengi frowning like a petulant child as he spoke to an older man Loki assumed must be his father. Lord Steinn was talking with a tall, dark-haired man Loki recognized from the _Langniðiar_ as Ullr. While Loki knew both men were on the High Council, he wondered how deep their friendship ran and if perhaps Ullr shared Steinn’s hunger for greater power. Loki moved through the crowd, smiling and making small talk all while surreptitiously watching Steinn and Ullr as they talked and watched the dancers.

Steinn gave nothing away, but Ullr’s gaze tended to linger too long on Njord and his wife Skadi. Loki thought back to the _Langniðiar_ again and remembered the decayed branch between Ullr and Skadi, a signifier of their previous marriage.

 _Hm. It seems that not everyone involved in that situation has moved on,_ Loki thought as he filed that information away. Part of Loki reveled in discovering a potentially juicy tidbit of gossip, but another part of him was resentful of the necessity of having to remember petty details about these boorish people. The night was starting to catch up with him and he felt drained, especially as he considered the prospect of having to live like this indefinitely. He’d left Jotunheim for good when his position became too precarious and his hatred of court intrigue grew to outweigh any enjoyment. While the situation in Asgard was still taking shape, it had the potential to be even more treacherous than Jotunheim had ever been. This was only his first night among the nobles and while he’d made a stunning first impression that would be remembered for years to come, he’d also made at least two dangerous enemies. The line between celebrity and infamy was a thin one and Loki would need to tread carefully.

“Damn,” Loki swore under his breath before taking a sip of wine. Why had he willingly, _stupidly_ subjected himself to this again?

Thor caught Loki’s eye from across the room and beamed at him.

_Oh yes, that's right. That's why._

Loki could scarcely believe it sometimes, that he really was so far gone that he’d put up with all of this for one of Thor's smiles. That he’d risk everything for the pleasure of having Thor look out and ignore a crowd of hundreds, his eyes only seeking out Loki's face. Loki’s thoughts were mired in fear, but his feet were carrying him to Thor as if by their own accord.

"My king."

"My love," Thor said, and all of Loki's doubts were momentarily forgotten.

 


End file.
